


Shifting

by thegreatamster



Category: Big Brother RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 17:24:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4445222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatamster/pseuds/thegreatamster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You have to shift to get from park to drive. </p>
<p>AKA: Various cars in Zach’s life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shifting

**Author's Note:**

> Let’s be real, this was mostly an excuse to think about Zach and Frankie making out in a car. Enjoy.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is fiction. I do not pretend to know these people at all. RPF has a nice hint of creepiness to it, so please don’t ever link this to any of the real people involved. Or to their parents, famous siblings, other family members, friends, managers, creepy neighbors, etc. Thanks!

Zach is seventeen when there's a boy for the first time, even if he doesn't realize it for what it is for years to come. He's in Zach's chemistry class and it's so fucking cliche, but they're assigned as lab partners the first day of class. Four days into the semester and Zach's fingers might as well be actual prunes from his perpetual sweaty palms and he's laughed so much that he thinks he’s gained a couple new abs.

The guy's a transfer student and he has an amazing car. When Zach runs his hand over the fender after following him to the student parking lot even though Zach didn't drive that day and should be heading east to the buses, he offers Zach a ride home.

Zach chews his right ring fingernail off completely during the ride even though his mom has been making him put on some sort of bittering agent on before school and during lunch.

When they make it to Zach's house, he can't stop looking at the boy's eyes which makes his hand fumble a few too many times on the unfamiliar door handle. He reaches across Zach's lap and opens the door for him. He smells really good and the thick hair on his arm brushes against Zach’s hand.

He makes some comment about the handle being weird, just says something incredibly nice and understanding like he does all the time. The voice kind of resonates to Zach and there’s this kindness in it that Zach doesn’t ever really hear in his life.

Zach's heart drops and he feels like he might actually die. After he tumbles out, when he turns around to say bye, the accompanying smile gets stuck somewhere between his brain and his mouth. And when the car door shuts, something else inside him shuts as well.

Zach decides that evening that it turns out that AP Chemistry might not be too strenuous for his schedule after all.

Something about cars that are red bothers him for years.

 

* * *

 

The car smells like eggs.

Logan had to go to this fucking taco place that doesn't deliver. Not to mention Logan is a fucking idiot and assured him and Erik that they open at 8 only to find out they open at 9.

Now Zach is sitting in the backseat of Erik's car with three take out containers full of mediocre, overpriced breakfast tacos while his eyes feel like they're lined in sandpaper from the combination of his 14 drinks last night and 4 hours of sleep.

"Could you go any fucking faster? It's already 9:30 and I still have to get ready."

“Look bro, we're not your chauffeur just because you're slightly famous now."

"Shut the fuck up. I'm serious. I'm going to be late."

There's more oil on his face than on the shitty tacos they just bought and Zach has to attempt to do something with his hair and hope that Erik's gel holds as well as his does.

"You don't even have to get dressed. You didn't bring anything."

Originally it wasn't a problem for Zach to be driven home from Miami in drinking clothes and sweaty hair, but plans had changed and it was a problem now.

Zach glares towards Logan in the front seat and sees Erik's eyes meet his in the rear view mirror.

"Dude, I told you, you can find something of mine if you really want."

"No, your stuff is too small for me."

"Doesn't Logan have a couple spare shirts at least? You can pick from that."

Zach interrupts Logan's protests about his clothes being used.

"No," he says forcefully.

"Okay. Okay, man. You can throw yours in the dryer with a dryer sheet. It’ll be fine.”

Logan is being way more of a douchebag than normal and Erik is being way less of a douchebag than normal and that combined with his lack of sleep and the idea of seeing Frankie in greasy hair and clothes that smell like Downy is driving him crazy. From the front seat, Logan is slurping some smoothie he had to order and he’s so loud that Zach is trying to decide if Logan could even hear him if he decides to complain about it.

"Hey man, are you gonna let us meet Frankie?"

Erik can tell he's getting pissy and is clearly trying to change the subject, but it doesn't work because it just serves to remind Zach how everyone treats him differently now. Pre-Big-Brother Erik would've told him to stop being such a pussy. 2-Weeks-Post-Big-Brother Erik acts like he’s some kid that needs to be treated gently.

“So you guys can embarrass me? Absolutely not."

"What? Bro! No, we won't."

"Yeah. Okay. Sure. Like I don't have enough embarrassment with my clothes and the bags under my eyes."

"C'mon man," Erik says as he signals into the underground parking for his building. "It's going to be okay."

"It's _not_ fucking okay, okay?" Zach doesn't even realize it's flying out of his mouth. It's louder than he thought it would be.

“I’m gross and tired and I have to be driven around like an idiot. He’s fucking famous. What the fuck am I doing? I’m _so_ fucking stupid."

Zach doesn't like how strained his voice sounds. And the watery feeling in his eyes has to be from lack of sleep and the smoke outside the club last night. Because he's already well past his yearly quota of public crying bouts by millions of viewers at least.

"This is so fucking stupid. I’m so _fucking_ stupid."

Zach takes a deep breath and looks at all the others cars in the garage through eyes that are _definitely_ not blurry. He sighs.

“What the fuck am I doing guys?”

His voice sounds dead, empty, hollow. Tired. But that’s better than the edge it had earlier. Zach has had enough edge, enough excitement for a while.

The silence is awkward despite the radio in the background, slightly staticky from the garage. It echoes around them when Erik turns the car off.

None of them move.

Erik swallows loudly.

”You know that it's okay, right?" asks Erik. "Like, it's all okay. You and us. The whole thing. It’s gonna be alright. I mean-we're just assholes.You know that. Right?"

Zach just blinks several times, gets out of the car, and leaves the tacos.

 

* * *

 

“Frankie! What are you doing?”

Zach smiles as he watches Frankie try to get his left foot onto the seat without moving the steering wheel.

Frankie just turned the car off 30 seconds ago but Zach is already getting warm with the top up. It’s October, but it’s October in Florida.

Zach spends a few seconds thinking about what on earth Frankie is doing before Frankie finally gets his sneaker past the steering wheel and ends up in Zach’s lap. It’s harder to think after that.

Zach gasps when he pulls the release handle of the seat back and sends them reclining a few inches.

Zach’s hand curled into Frankie’s t-shirt as they fell which is convenient. Zach uses it to pull him closer.

"What are you doing," Zach asks as he finishes with a giggle and a grin.

“Oh, come on. You know what I’m doing. We’re gonna be in public for _hours_ once we go in there. It's not like you haven't made out in a car before," Frankie teases while digging his knees farther back into the crease of the passenger seat.

Zach purses his lips and raises his eye brows. It’s a miracle that he’s not blushing but he knows he looks shifty.

Frankie gasps once he understands.

"You asshole. You lied about that story in the house."

Zach meets Frankie's eyes with a determined stare and a smug smile.

"Okay, I'm pissed that the imagery in my head of baby Zachary losing his virginity in the backseat of a car isn't accurate, but I don't have time to tickle the real story out of you," Frankie says as he gives a cursory swipe of fingers along Zach's lower ribs.

Zach doesn't say anything. Mostly because he can't think of something better or funnier than anything that will come out of Frankie's mouth.

His mouth opens anyway though, in a gasp, because Frankie’s cold hands slide up under his shirt over his stomach.

Sunlight reflecting off the metal emblem on the steering wheel through the open garage door leaves purple spots on his eyelids when they close once Frankie’s lips meet his.

Zach is sweating all of a sudden. His skin tingles, a new drop forming every second, with every kiss from Frankie. And then, when the kisses become one long press, with every shift of their lips and tongues.

It’s definitely not nerves. He’s kissed a dozen other people, some multiple times. _And Frankie twice too_ , his brain reminds him, like it does multiple times, every day.

His brain stops reminding him of anything when Frankie finally removes his mouth from Zach’s.

Frankie gets a grip on Zach’s hair and tilts his head the direction he wants. He’s even sweatier.

But it’s totally not nerves. It’s just the car. The hot car. Making him sweat.

Hot breath from Frankie raises the temperature of the side of his neck even higher before Frankie closes his mouth around one of Zach’s earlobes.

Zach groans.

At first, everything was perfect. Frankie’s thighs were warm and firm below Zach’s elbows and Frankie’s lips were soft against his face and lips.But with time, the car is getting smaller.

Zach can only reach his mouth to Frankie’s jaw. Frankie’s head hit the headliner before Zach can reach his lower neck that holds his Adam’s apple, with its angle that intimidates Zach while still managing to demand to be measured. Frankie’s hands are around his neck and resting on his shoulders and it’s nice. But Zach’s damp back is pressed flat against the seat to allow Frankie the most room which means Frankie couldn’t move his hands if he wanted to. And when Zach thinks back to back rubs in dark rooms, Zach wishes Frankie would and could.

Zach is pretty sure cars are supposed to symbolize freedom, but he just feels trapped. It’s terrifying Zach how limiting the car is. He wants to do everything. It’s all too big for such a small car and Zach feels like they can’t be contained.

But Frankie is the smartest person Zach has ever known. Frankie knows how big they are as an entity and he knows just how small the car is and just how close he parks it to the house that’s full of his family. Zach swoons a bit at the sweet but embarrassing thought of Frankie picking a space for Zach that’s a bit more contained and limited than the bedroom he knows he’s going to end up in tonight.

When Frankie finally pulls away, Zach opens his eyes and the look in Frankie’s eyes is deep enough for a million cars to fit in.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

Zach looks outside the car window at the stationary garage before pushing Frankie forward into the dashboard.

Even though the car isn't moving, Zach really feels like they’re going somewhere.

 

* * *

 

Zach doesn’t have to wait long for a taxi, but even two minutes outside in February in New York is too long. He feels like he’s freezing, even though he's felt a little cold inside for days.

The tire wells of the one that pulls up are caked in salt and whatever other filth it’s grabbed from the streets. When Zach goes to lift his suitcase into the trunk, it hits some of the shit on the back bumper and it sticks to his suitcase and the handle. It kind of ruins the effect of the pink. As he steps back, he steps in a piece that fell off. He thinks it’s probably symbolic that he’s going back to Florida muckier than he left.

Of fucking course, the taxi driver is a girl who happens to have pink hair. Zach starts crying once he shuts the door and looks up at the back of her head. He stops once they make it to the airport, but it doesn't really feel like it stopped.

When she speeds off, leaving him at the gate, she looks like a getaway driver. Zach wonders if he’s the thief or the victim.

 

* * *

 

While it's a go-to name for obvious reasons, Zach names the car Rose primarily because she’s blue and therefore, it’s fucking hilarious.

But also, he thought of it the first time he got in her, because the smell overpowered him.

She smells so _good_. Like leather mostly and who knows what else.

He’s not sure if the smell is really that strong or if the intensity just comes from the fact that he feels like he can breathe easier and deeper than he has in a long time.

Zach rolls down the windows, turns the radio on, and shifts into drive.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
